Up the Revolution!

With 2010 hurtling toward oblivion like some hell bound train, we’ve come to that curious point in the calendar, where I have to write what is both the final editorial of the out-going year, but is also the first of the incoming year. So, what should I do – look back on the twelve months gone by, or forward to the year to come? Actually, (and predictably), I’m going to do both. According to one survey, (carried out by the Samaritans, it should be noted), a third of people in the UK think that 2010 was one of the worst years of their lives. I’m not sure that I’d go that far, although any year that includes the election of a Tory government can never be described as good, for me it was a pretty nondescript year, characterised by, if anything, a sense of slight disappointment and frustration. A lot of this, obviously, derived from the battering this site’s traffic took as a consequence of Google’s disastrous ‘Mayday’ update. However, I’m not going to rehash all that here – I’ve ranted enough on the subject for one year! In fact, 2010 has been so unmemorable, that only the events of the past month or so actually linger in my memory – the continued harassment of Julian Assange’s penis by an international conspiracy of condom manufacturers seeking to prove that they can contain any leak; and the Business Secretary giving new meaning to the term ‘laying a Cable’.

Actually, I’ve come to the conclusion that Julian Assange’s real motivation for creating Wikileaks, rather than a dedication to the cause of greater transparency and freedom of information, was to ensure that he got laid. What other explanation can there be for someone as geeky as him having Swedish women allegedly throwing themselves at him? Clearly, “I’m exposing the governments of the world’s dirty secrets to the globe – by the way would you like to see my cock?” is a pretty powerful chat-up line. All of which brings us back to the Business Secretary, thanks to whom, we all now know that when some says “I’m just going to lay a Cable”, they don’t mean they’re going for a good long dump. Rather, they mean that they’re a sad old git of a politician who is going to completely destroy their last vestiges of credibility by trying to prove their political virility to some young female reporters posing as constituents. In fact, if he actually had taken off his shirt, poured baby oil over his torso and flexed his muscles to impress them, it would still have been less embarrassing than listening to his talk of his ability to ‘bring the government down’ by exercising his ‘nuclear option’.

If nothing else, the Vince Cable debacle simply emphasises the fact that the Liberal Democrats really are a bunch of rank amateurs and must never be allowed near proper, grown up, government again. They can’t even plot against their political allies properly – you aren’t meant to tell the whole bloody world what you are up to, for Christ’s sake. Not only that, if Cable really is as determined to uphold his Liberal principles in the face of the Tories’ rampant right-wing policies, why didn’t he take the opportunity to make a stand over the issue of Higher Education fees? Still, at least his stance of student fees helped ensure that we at least got some bloody good riots going. It’s been a long time we’ve seen anything like that in this country! Hell, even the Prince of Wales and Camilla got caught up in the chaos. Mind you, I thought the demonstrators were actually trying to do them a favour by stopping them from getting to the Royal Variety Performance. Trust me, that event really is a crime.

All of which brings us to the matter of looking ahead to next year. With any luck, things will pick up where they left off, with more civil disobedience and unrest. Really, I think that it’s the only language this pathetic excuse for a government understands. You know, I wouldn’t usually advocate this sort of thing, but the fact is that this is an illegitimate government with no mandate. Nobody wanted it. Nobody actually voted for it. Worst of all, it’s busy pursuing a programme which was cooked up between Cameron and Clegg in some shabby back room deal, and which the electorate had no opportunity to debate during the actual election campaign. If that isn’t enough to make you riot, then consider this: they’re complete bastards. Really. They’re a bunch of public school educated toffs who are busy dismantling the welfare state and subverting the constitution, apparently with impunity. Clearly, taking to the streets is the only way we can counter this bastards – we need to wrest power back from them! That’s what we need to do in 2011 – take back our country!

But how best to go about it? Well, if these bastards are intent upon dismantling some our greatest institutions, such as the NHS and higher education, then maybe we should dismantle theirs. The students’ attack on Tory Party headquarters was a good start, as is the blockading of tax-dodging, Tory-loving corporations’ shops and outlets. But why not take it further? Most of these filthy rich bastards must have stately homes, (or what look like stately homes to us simple folks), so why not squat in them? They undoubtedly have huge, gas-guzzling flash cars, so why not let their tyres down? Or throw eggs at them. Anything. It doesn’t matter how small it is – just commit some act of rebellion against this evil regime in 2011. Even if it is just spitting on a picture of David Cameron. Or wiping your arse with a copy of the Coalition Agreement. Or even just sending a parcel of shit to Nick Clegg. Just register your opposition. And rest assured, that whilst you are rioting, throwing crap at Number ten, or whatever, I’ll be there. Not beside you, exactly. But I will be nearby. Holding your coat for you whilst you fight with the riot police. And I might even shout support. But not too loudly as the filth might hear and get annoyed. I mean, I can’t afford to get arrested. How could I lead the fight from these pages if I was behind bars, eh? Be reasonable. But seriously, we really do need to devote 2011 to drawing a line in the sand, so to speak, as far as this government is concerned. So, until I see you on the barricades – keep it sleazy!

Doc Sleaze

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About The Author

Publisher, Executive Editor and Chief Writer of The Sleaze, the Doc is in the forefront of the campaign to preserve historic 1970s moustaches, and is currently the owner of a fine 1970 Alain Delon, which he wears with pride every Thursday. Before founding The Sleaze, the Doc had the singular honour of being dismissed from the Ministry of Defence's Defence Intelligence Staff following his involvement with the original 'dodgy dossier', which sparked the civil war in the former Yugoslavia. Nevertheless, he stands by his controversial assessment that there is satellite imagery clearly showing Serbian leader Slobodan Milosevic enjoying a three-in-a-bed romp with Princess Margaret and Richard Branson. Following his dismissal, the Doc crossed the Atlantic to enter the film industry, where he quickly became Tawny Kitaen's pubic hair stylist. The proud possessor of the world's largest collection of pornography discovered in hedgerows, the Doc is considered one of Britain's leading experts on smut, and acted as an advisor to the BBC 4 series A Pornographic History of Britain. Now in his early middle years, Doc Sleaze lives quietly in Southern England where he is sometimes allowed to teach Government and Politics to local A-level students. He can be reached through the site's main e-mail address - just don't expect a reply.